Page 74 of Pretty Monsters

"I–" This is a repeat of the conversation I had with Ford. "How do you know when you love someone?"

"When you feel like they're your everything," he says, his tone laced with sadness.

I nod several times until I'm doing a pretty dead on impression of a bobble head. I love Raven. It isn't that I didn't know on some level. My feelings for her are all consuming and clear. It's more that the word love doesn't hold much meaning for me.

People love chocolate, coffee, puppies, and even sports. It's the most overused word I can think of, and I can't equate my feelings for her like some people would a fucking pumpkin spiced latte.

Shaking my head, I find myself saying, "No."

A gasp from the bedroom doorway tells me Raven came out of the room at exactly the wrong time. "You don't love me?"

Panic seizes me. "Come here," I rasp.

Tentatively, she moves closer to me. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and I can see the pain hearing part of the conversation caused her.

The need to touch her takes over, and I rub her arms. "Love is too weak of a word for what I feel for you. I was just thinking that people express how much they love lots of inconsequential shit. I love coffee, but I can't feel the same way about you I do about my morning caffeine fix."

"Okay," she says quietly. "So, uhm, what are you saying?"

"I need a word that fits better. I live you, breathe you, fucking need you. When I say you're my everything I mean I would probably die without you at this point."

Raven melts and takes the remaining steps until she's in my arms again. Where she should always be.

"I was wrong before," Lucien interrupts. Best friend or not, I might kill him.

"About?" I ask him.

"You being with my sister. I know you'll protect her. That you'd die for her. Everyone should get to be loved like that, especially her."

"It's really annoying when you both keep talking about me like I'm not standing right here," she complains.

Lucien finally spots the marks on her wrists and neck, and he tenses again. "I don't like the reminders though."

He runs his hand through his hair and pulls. "I really wish I didn't know you like it rough."

I narrow my eyes at him. "How exactly do you know that?"

Shrugging, he says, "The maids talk."

"Maids, plural?" Of course she doesn't miss that detail.

"Thanks a lot, fucker," I snap.

Raven rolls her eyes and swats me on the chest. "Like I wasn't aware youusedto get around."

Right, Tessa and the cabin. "Never again. I'm yours, I'll tattoo it on me if it makes you feel better." Actually, a tattoo of a raven would be perfect.

"I'd have thought you'd have ink. Why don't you?" she asks.

"Identifying marks. In our line of work, we normally avoid anything that can help identify us," Lucien supplies.

"All this domestic bliss is great and all, but we should really dig into Fallen Angel. The sooner I can find out if they are trafficking women or not the sooner we can wrap that shit up. I need out of that place, legit or not."

"Quit," Raven says.

"We need money," Lucien reminds her.

"About that. I start working with Ford today." Lucien opens his mouth, and I hold up my hand to stop him. "Raven too, so you don't need to worry about her safety."

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